


The Clarity Project

by LizzyBeff



Category: Antisepticeye - Fandom, Darkiplier - Fandom, Septiplier - Fandom, Youtube RPF, jacksepticeye, markiplier - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - Robots & Androids, Mad Scientists, laboratory
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-25
Updated: 2018-01-13
Packaged: 2018-08-24 14:08:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 7,182
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8375032
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LizzyBeff/pseuds/LizzyBeff
Summary: Markiplier and Jacksepticeye face their inner demons while facing the invention of Doctor Robotertechnik.





	1. The Focus Group

Mark looked up at the escort that had been assigned to him. The man wore a black suit and tie. He had on dark sunglasses and his face was a solid serious stone that sat atop his tall, broad shoulders. He looked as if he had come straight out of a sci-fi movie, ready to report and take care of any imminent threat to the planet. They had been walking for some time now down an eerie hallway furnished with all the boring fixings: close white walls, pristine gray carpeting, fluorescent overhead lights, and endless dark wood doors, each with their own silver plaque labeling their purpose. The man hung close behind Mark like a storm cloud behind a hopeless man on a bad day. 

Then there was an abrupt stop from the man. It was so quick that Mark kept walking unbeknownst to the change until he felt himself being jerked back, his arm gripped by the giant. 

"This is where we stop," the voice boomed. "You are to go in, find the seat with your name labeled on paper, sit down, and wait. Then the focus group meeting will commence." 

Mark stood there, intimidated by the figure before him. His escort stared at him, as if expecting something. 

"Is that clear, Mr. Fischbach?"

"Yes sir," he said quietly. 

The man scoffed, taking a look at Mark's red hair. He turned around promptly and left, his black leather dress shoes thudding down the corridor.

Mark eyed the small silver sign outside the door. The engraved lettering read thusly: 

Room 427  
CLARIT-Y Project Focus Showing  
YouTube Division: Gaming   
Male Participants

Mark grabbed the metal handle and pushed open the door. He was greeted with what would have been a mundane room if it weren't for the colorful array of patterns and styles from the clothing of his fellow participants. The room was small but long with mind-numbing white walls, one of which was covered with a gray velvet curtain. There was one long white table bolted to the ground. It curved inward as to give all listening patrons the same emphasis on the center stage. At the table sat six chairs, four of which were filled. Everyone sat motionless, back straight, focused on the nothing that took up the middle of the room. It all seemed so strange to him. 

He walked up to the unfilled seat on the end. On the table the paper sat, and in big bold letters it read: 

FISCHBACH, MARK EDWARD   
SUBJECT 258  
PAIRED TO: SUBJECT 257

He pulled out his chair and sat down, confused by the means of the professionalism in which this was happening. This was just a normal focus group pitch, right?

He looked over to his left. There sat the green headed potato himself; the loud, the great, the honorable, the Irish: Jacksepticeye. But to Mark, he was just Jack. Mark went in for a hug.

"Dude, not now," Jack whispered through a grin. "He's watchin', and he doesn't want us ta interact with each other." He flicked his head in the direction of the left front corner. In it stood another suited man with glasses. 

Mark estimated that this man stood at least seven feet tall. He could see the muscles almost bulging out of his suit. He looked like more of a bodyguard than an escort. 

It was strange really, the circumstances of this situation. A letter arrived just a few weeks ago at Mark's house. It arrived in a yellow legal envelope addressed specifically to him. Inside it had been an invitation to a focus group, and an "utterly urgent" one at that. It encouraged formal wear, a clear head, and a good attitude. At the bottom was a website address and a large signature. Mark would never be able to forget the loops and whirls of those final scrawls-

"Signed, Doctor Robotertechnik" 

Later the same day, he entered the specific website into his computer. On the homepage was something shocking. It was all text, capitalized words here and there for emphasis. It started simply with 'Mark, you are needed' and went on to describe a secretive meeting that only "influential creators" could attend. It encouraged him to shred his invite, only keeping the inked signature at the bottom. It ended with 'Myself and others are looking forward to your attendance. Thank you.'

And then, without knowing why, he showed up. It seemed like something that needed to be done. It was mandatory, not optional. He felt the wrinkled paper in his pocket. 

He looked around at the other four people. At the opposite end of the table sat the king of YouTube himself, Felix Kjellberg. He wore a navy blue blazer with white polka dots and a blue-striped white shirt with a sky blue tie. His pants were khakis and he wore red converse shoes. How this was formal, Mark had no idea. It was more like business casual. 

Next to him sat Ken Morrison, his beard better groomed than ever. He wore a black pinstripe suit with a red tie and black suit pants. Now this was a man well-dressed. It was weird seeing him without his iconic bear hat. 

Next to Ken sat a man Mark was all too familiar with: Daniel Avidan. His unkempt frizzy hair was somehow tamed and pulled back into a ponytail, perhaps to keep it out of his face. He had on a black blazer and a white shirt. His pants were black. He looked semi-professional as opposed to his regular look. 

Next to Dan, an empty seat. Mark was barely able to make out the bolded words. Arin Hanson was supposed to be here.

Then there was Jack. It was disturbing, almost creepy, seeing the man without his usual energetic persona. Another creepy detail: he and Mark had almost the exact same suit on, a standard black double breast with a white shirt, the difference being the colors of their ties. Jack's was yellow. Mark's was orange. 

A mumbling came from outside the rooms door. Mark could make out the words of the exact same instructions he had received. The door opened, and in came Arin. He had on a brown blazer, black bow tie, white shirt, and jeans. He looked like a mess. He filled in the only empty seat, and waited.

As soon as the silence caused the world to sit still, the door swung open and a large round man in a lab coat came in. His face was red like a tomato and atop his pudgy nose sat thin silver glasses.

Mark heard the door close and lock behind them. 

"Welcome, welcome, my friends, to the Clarity project!" the man exclaimed jovially. He had somewhat of a German accent. "Thank you all for for being here to take part in this new, wonderful test of advanced robotics! I am Doctor Robotertechnik. Would you please all pull out the slip of paper with my signature on it?" 

There was a ruffling and a shuffling of papers being pulled out of pockets. Mark glanced over at Jack. His face was glowing with excitement. Finally there was silence. 

"Gut," the doctor said. "Let's begin." The velvet curtain was pulled back, and everyone stared in awe.


	2. Gizmos, Gadgets, and Gut Feelings

What had seemed to be just a hidden flat surface was revealed to be so much more. Behind the curtain were two small flat tables, each with their own gizmos and gadgets. There stood a podium with some kind of remote on top. Then the most mysterious part was revealed. It was something person-sized, and it stood on two mechanical feet underneath a black bed sheet. Everyone's eyes were glued on it as the doctor moved toward the first table. 

"Now," he said as he clapped his hands together, "I suppose you're all wondering why you are here. This first invention of mine," he explained as he picked up something from the wooden slab, "is something I like to call the comparer-pairer." He lifted it up higher so that they all could see the strange trinket. It was about the size of an old school Gameboy. It had a screen half the size of the thing, and underneath were a few dials and buttons. The frame of it was made from what appeared to be a pink plastic-like substance that was sheen and new. Two small antennae were jutting out of the top, both coated in a powdery black substance that held fast to them. "Now," he exclaimed while flipping a switch on the back, "You will all be tested by the wave frequency measured by my little instrument here. Look on your papers and see the number of the subject you are paired with. If you are not already, sit next to him." 

Everyone looked at their papers and then at their neighbors' papers. No one moved. There was a small snicker from the far end of the table at which the doctor snapped his fingers. As soon as it was silent again, he proceeded. 

"Wunderbar," Doctor Robotertechnik sighed, "Lets get started." He walked up to Felix and Ken and pointed the device right to the space in between their chairs. "How this device works is simple. It scans the brain waves of two or more subjects." The machine beeped and a small blue wave appeared on the blackened screen which had now come to life. "Depending on the waves the machine picks up, it gives an average wave. This relates a connection between the two bodies, or, rather, a compatibility chart, if you will." He flipped one of the dials. "Now we get a number." The small box replied with a low pitched beep. Seemingly pulled out of thin air, he gripped a clear clipboard with parchment snapped on it and a regular black ink pen suspended under the clip as well. He turned the screen around and showed everyone seated at the table the number: -346. 

Jack perked up. "But what does it mean?" he loudly blurted out. He realized his mistake and soon covered his mouth. Suddenly, the suited man in the corner lunged forward and was in front of him. His darkened sunglasses stopped any eye contact that was happening, yet Jack could feel the eyes burning into his soul. Then the figure pulled his arm up with inhuman strength, and he was just about to need a new pair of pants when Doctor Robotertechnik interjected. 

"Heinz," he barked while he scrawled something on a clipboard," That's really not necessary. Calm down and go back to your corner." The man turned his head to look at the doctor. He let go of Jack's arm, sending it thudding back onto the table. Seemingly agitated, he stomped back to the corner of the room, arms crossed, face poised at Jack.

"Now, where were we?" Said the doctor as he clicked his pen. "Ah, right, the numbers." He took a step over toward Danny and Arin and set the device up just like he had done before. "My dear boy, these numbers mean the correlation between you and your paired subject. They represent the closeness between you and him on all mental and emotional levels, your likeness to each other, and," he paused,"how close your dark sides are to each other." 

Jack wanted to scream out another what or why, but he held his tongue. The man in the corner was still staring at him like he had been punished for something that Jack had done. He found it best to look away.

The doctor chuckled a little after seeing Jack's puzzled and scared expression. "Relax," he added reassuringly,"It's a term I use for what an opposite version of you would do, all the choices you wouldn't make." Another low pitched beep came from the machine. "Wow," he said. "That's a new high." He scrawled something down on his clipboard. Then he stepped over to Mark and Jack, for it was their turn.

As the machine started beeping, Jack and Mark both felt something. It seemed like a heavy force was pushing in their skulls, penetrating their brains. The pressure was excruciating, but their bodies remained still and unmoving. It was not that they didn't want to move; it was because they simply couldn't. The chirps of the device were amplified in their ears, the pulsing of it synced up their heartbeats as well as their breathing, and they had become suspended in the reality that was Doctor Robotertechnik's screwy world. But it only lasted for an instant, only one, and it was barely fast enough to slide through the fingers of any man trying desperately to grasp it. 

Then the machine emitted a high pitched whir, and the pressure subsided. Jack and Mark simultaneously came out of a dazed state and watched as the doctor's face told a story of surprise and shock. 

"Just as I predicted..." he said in a quiet gasp. He looked up at them, his eyes filled with wonder. "I really just... I can't fathom it being real..." He turned around and held his clipboard to his waist.

At this time, Jack gazed down at the clipboard through the hole between the doctor's belly and his arm. On the clipped paper there were three distinctive boxes, each with text to the left and the lines on which numbers sat. He tried making them out. He was able to read it all. 

TEST ONE: DISTANT PAIRING  
SUBJECTS: 253, 254  
CLARITY RATING: -346

TEST TWO: PROXIMAL PAIRING  
SUBJECTS: 255, 256  
CLARITY RATING: 769

TEST THREE: IDEAL PAIRING  
SUBJECTS: 257, 258  
CLARITY RATING: 

The doctor pulled out his pen and recorded a final number and note: 

"000  
Ideal subjects found  
Phase one complete"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoy! Thanks for reading!


	3. Waiting for Freedom

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A boring room becomes a prison cell for the six men.

Everyone had been sitting in the waiting room for over eight hours. It was adorned with three black leather couches, short silver end tables, and a long gray coffee table. There were piles of magazines on each flat surface, each different from one another aside the fact that they each had a smiling woman on the front trying to market houses, medicine, or anything of the sort. The room itself was very peculiar. It only had one door, and it looked like it was too small to fit all of the furniture let alone six people. At each corner of the ceiling, a camera and microphone was aimed down at them and peered into the dwelling. There was a large wide mirror spanning one of the drab white walls.

"I'm pretty sure that's a two-way," said Mark as he pointed at the shiny silver surface. 

"Why wouldn't it be?" replied Jack tiredly. "There's at least one a' them in every building like this." He turned his head to look at Danny and Arin. 

Dan was twiddling his thumbs and staring into space. Arin was leaned up against him, eyes shut and heavily breathing. On his neck were two perfectly circular bruises, each with blackened skin surrounding them. He glanced at Felix and Ken. They were each holding a magazine, snickering at one another every couple of pages. Perhaps it was a tactic to mask their impatience. He had no idea what Mark had been doing this whole time, for he was just always staring at something. Jack's foot tapped anxiously on the ground. 

"Dude, chill," sighed Mark. "It probably won't be much longer." 

"But it's sooooo boring," cried Jack enthusiastically. "I can't stand it anymore."

"It's not my fault they took our phones away. We just have to wait a little more."

Jack rolled his eyes. "You can stop pretending ta be patient now. I know you're just as frustrated as me."

"I'm frustrated because of all these weird rules. What kind of rule is 'don't talk to anyone in the waiting room except for your paired partner' anyway? I know that they know that we all know each other."

"I know that you used the word 'know' too much and now I'm confused."

Both men let out a chuckle. 

Their situation was a strange one. They'd all been escorted into this tiny room after the Doctor had wrapped up his finishing speech. Their group was surrounded on all sides by those tall suited men as if they were herded cattle. They were ordered to give up their phones and then proceeded to walk down another suffocating corridor. A small white door at the end of the hall was opened. In they went one by one, and they were each assigned a cushion on one of the couches. Of course their partner was assigned next to them, and then the big burly man from the focus room made his way in. 

"You are not allowed to socialize with anyone in this room except for your assigned pair mate. Keep it quiet. Is that clear?" His voice was monotoned and flat. It had a low pitch, almost like that of a deep voice modulator. He turned around as he heard a unanimous "Yes" and ducked out the door. Minutes ticked by as they all sat there in awe of what had just happened. It all was a muddy, meaningless happening until Arin had done something foreseeably reckless. About an hour into waiting he sat up. 

"Hey Dan," he said quite audibly as he eyed everyone around the room. A smile creeped onto his face. "I have to take a shit."

Everyone collectively chuckled. 

The door immediately opened and the big man from before addressed them all. 

"Your orders were to keep it quiet. You are not allowed to talk to anyone but your paired partner."

"But sir," Arin interjected, "I have to use your toilet. If you didn't hear me before, which I'm sure you did, I have to take a shit."

Everyone held in their laughter and shook with excitement.

"Sit down," the man barked. "You will wait here until further instruction is given." He turned around, ducked out the door once again, and shut it, this time slamming it a little. 

Another couple of hours passed.

Everyone was restless and bored until Arin yet again sat up. Instead of just exclaiming his needs, he walked over to the door and started pounding on it.

"Hey dude," he shouted. "I really need to use your bathroom now."

The doorknob turned and the door opened slowly. The man walked in and seemed off-put by something.

"Sit and shut up." 

Arin stood there dumbfounded for a second. Then he went back over to the couch and sat. 

"Fine," he said with a twinge of anger in his voice. "I'll just shit on this coffee table then." 

And then the man was gone, again closing the door hurriedly.

About a half and hour later, Arin lunged toward the door and knocked persuasively. 

"Please," he begged. "I need to go to the bathroom."

The door flew open sending Arin tumbling backwards. In came the man once more, this time wielding a cattle prod in his meaty hand. He held it up as is buzzed with electricity and within a second the device had been plunged into Arin's naked neck. He shook and convulsed on the floor screaming in pain. The seconds it was touching him were pure and raw agony. Then it was pulled away, and Arin became unconscious. The man propped him up on the couch as Danny flinched in fear. The man adjusted his sunglasses and walked out the door, slamming it forcefully and causing the room to shake.

Everyone was startled and shocked by the occurrence, and took to whispering and silence as the time had passed. 

Hours later, Arin was still knocked out but seemed healthier. He was breathing at a regular pace. Danny had also checked his pulse earlier and nodded to communicate to everyone in the room that he was in fact okay.  
What a strange day it had been.

The minutes now were stretching into their own agonizing pocket eternities. Just as Mark closed his eyes to relax a little, the door swung open. Instead of the threatening man who had terrified them before, they saw Doctor Robotertechnik waltz into the room, a happy glow on his face. Danny nudged Arin a bit and he woke up.

"Hallo, hallo, friends! It's good to see you again!" He looked at Mark and Jack. "You two will be staying here with me for a while longer. As for the rest of you," he exclaimed to the others, "you are free to leave. The kind lady at the front desk will provide your belongings and you may go. Thank you for coming!"

Everyone leapt up and out the door.

"Fock," exclaimed Jack under his breath. All he wanted was to get on a plane and go home. 

"Dammit!" whispered Mark. "Mr. um, Doctor, how long is this going to take? I have things to do tomorrow."

"I'm sorry. You won't be home tomorrow." 

"What?" Both men gasped and looked at him in shock. 

"Heinz," the Doctor shouted, "Bringen Sie mir bitte die Handschellen."

In stepped the burly man. He handed a long wooden box to the Doctor, and moved towards Jack and Mark. 

"I'm sorry," exclaimed the Doctor jovially. "You won't be going anywhere for a while."

Then both men saw Heinz ball his hand into a fist, and his knuckle was the last thing they both saw before falling into a painful darkness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for reading! It means a lot to me just to see the view count go up. I appreciate it all, I really do. :)


	4. Murmurs in the Dark

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The men wake up.

Mark opened his eyes. It felt like one of them was swollen and heavy as his face ached. Everything around him was black, save for a little outline of light that indicated a door. He was sitting on a chair and being restricted by something at his feet. His arms were behind his back and they were painfully cramped. Before he could try to move them, he heard a moan behind him.

"Jack?" Mark called out into the darkness. It echoed around in his surroundings. "Are you there?" He heard heavy breathing and a groan of pain. 

"Fockin' hell..." 

"Jack! Are you okay?"

"Mark? Jesus Christ..."

Then the hinge on the outlined door creaked and revealed a small, rounded figure surrounded entirely by some blue smokey light. It took a few steps in.

A slight German accent pierced the darkness. "Hallo, boys. How are we doing?" He chuckled. 

The room was silent, but the atmosphere was thick with tension and rage. Then a blinding beam of light took over the room and both men winced. It was another boring lodging, walls and floors completely painted white. There were high white ceilings with tons of long florescent lights. The room was huge in comparison to anything the building had previously offered and seemed pointless by comparison.

The doctor walked up to the two men, nearing Mark. He held a small silver cube in his hand. His arm shot out from his body and aimed it at Mark's face. "Vitalizer, springen Sie." It shook with great ferocity and flung up from its host. The cubic shape jolted open in mid air, and from it sprang many tiny robotic arms. It began hovering, it's small mass of wires and metal appendages whirring. It seemed to respirate as its pulsating robotic body moved. A few things clicked within the being and it sharply turned towards Mark's face, stopping just a few nanometers from his nose.

"What the fuck is that thing? Get it away from me!" He kicked his feet up into the air and he was greeted with a jolting, high-voltage shock. He screamed in agony and felt his muscles tense and convulse. His heart stopped abruptly and took a few seconds to recover. He couldn't feel his legs as he noticed his restraints and watched them tighten around his ankles. What Mark saw was astounding. There were handcuffs made of pure blue electricity around his legs. They connected in the middle with a small shiny piece of plastic containing a hole in it. Needless to say, his pants had been singed from the pure heat and intensity of the incident.

"As you can see, moving is not an option. The invention you see there can kill you, and I would really not prefer any more dead subjects." 

A plume of green hair shot up. "What the fock?! Dead subjects!" 

"Ahh, so you're awake too, aren't you? You'll just have to wait your turn. "

The Irishman raised his voice. "What turn? A turn with what?" 

"This. Go!"

Mark screamed in terror as the machine grabbed his face with the pinching arms. It pulled his eyelids up and stretched his lips out, exposing his teeth. Two more arms with flat attachments went down his shirt and placed themselves on his chest. Another two arms went into his ears and then more flat attachment arms connected to his forehead. A needle pierced his arm. With a woosh, everything was gone and within a few seconds everything that had deployed had retracted itself. The machine jumped back into the air, became a cube once more and shot into Doctor Robotertechnik's palm. It buzzed and opened a long compartment in the top side and then ejected what looked like a sheet of receipt paper. 

"Ahh, gut. Only an accelerated heart rate and a black eye." He walked around to Jack. "Your turn is here, Sean." 

Jack shuddered and was paralyzed in fear as the box did its job on him. It again transported itself to the doctor's hand and printed out a report. The doctor looked it over with his beady eyes. 

"Everything's okay with you as well. Now we can start the tests."

Both men wondered with a burning intensity what these tests would be. They were scared and full of rage toward their crafty captor. The doctor walked out and as the door closed, all the light in the room had turned back into blackness. 

Jack spoke with a ping of worry in his voice "Mark, what are they going to do to us?"

"I have no clue. You're asking me like I know the answer. What ever it is, it's not good."

"That guy is fockin' crazy..."

"You said it..."

Jack sighed. "I want to go home. I don't want to be trapped here anymore." 

Time in the blackness was nonexistent. Everything that was a second stretched into thousands of years. Silence only aided the ongoing problem. After what had happened, both men had questions that neither had the answer to. All they could do was theorize and hope that Father Time himself wouldn't strike them dead.

"You think there's any way that we can get out of these... these devices?" Jack was tiring from all the waiting. "My arms are really cramping up..."

"When I saw the ones holding my feet, it looked like the unlocking mechanism was some plastic or metal square with a hole in it. Maybe if we can split the cuffs from their source it'll break the whole thing."

"It's really strange that you can't see these things in the dark. They look like their made out of lightning." Jack winced. "Wait, you're suggesting we pull our legs apart so fast that we break the cuffs?" 

"Yes, but maybe we we won't use such a quick movement. I shot my legs up pretty fast and I was shocked..." 

"But you weren't pullin' them away from each other..." 

Suddenly, there was a loud painful scream from Jack's mouth. Mark never pictured that he could be louder than he already was. 

Mark chuckled a little bit and then realized the horror of the situation. "Jack? Are you okay?"

"Ah fockin' Christ, that hurt..."

"Maybe if you manipulate the electric field slow enough, it'll pull apart."

"Jaysus, I ain't doing that again. I can't feel my fockin' toes! Why don't you try it, Mr. Engineer?"

"I don't know if I can do it again! He says that it could kill us..."

"Exactly, that's why I'm not doing anything else." The cuffs tightened around Jack's ankles like they had done around Mark's. "Fock..."

"We need to get out of here some way!" 

"Well I don't have the answers for ya!"

There was a deep silent pause full of frustration.

"Look, I'm sorry," Mark whispered apologetically. "I just... I don't know what's going on and it's freaking me out."

"We're in the same sinkin' boat there, buddy." Jack yawned. "Don't you feel a little bit tired?"

"You? Tired?" Mark chuckled. "Yeah, I do actually."

"Then let's just sleep it all off then. It'll be better then waiting here all miserable..." 

"What if that's what he wants us to do? What was that stuff we got injected with?"

"Look, Mark, all I'm trying ta do is help pass the time a little. I'll say it again, I don't have to answers for ya."

"I don't feel safe here."

"Me either."

It was then that they both closed their eyes and tried to welcome the peaceful grip of sleep through the skews of their questioning brains.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for not posting in a long while. Life's been a bit busy. Regardless, I thank you for reading and I hope you enjoy!


	5. Testing; One, Two, Three...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> >:) ...

Doctor Robotertechnik sunk into his big black desk chair with a sigh and stared around his dimly lit room. He looked up to a giant plasma screen mounted on his office wall and turned to the corner to speak to his tall, burly confidant. 

"You know, Heinz, we are dealing with highly influential people."

Heinz growled.

The doctor looked down at his button-riddled desk and pushed one, sending the screen flickering to life. The image was a clear shot of the two men restrained in their chairs, heads sunk into their chests and their eyes closed. The picture was in a glowing green contrast from the night vision camera used to shoot it. 

"And yet, I feel the compulsion to hurt them even more so than anyone else I've tested on." 

He pushed a second button on the desk. A small white rectangle appeared at the bottom right corner of the screen, the two sharp lines within it bouncing up and down to the mens' heartbeats.

"They seem stable now. The tranquilizers must've worked. Now we can move on to the hallucinogens and drop tanks. I wonder how it'll all go, putting all this test work in just to have it redesigned by the individual. It's quite fascinating." He glanced again at Heinz. 

"It's that time again, huh? Alright. I suppose it's time to go home, rest, and review. Those two'll sleep at least twenty six more hours unmonitored." He flipped open a hidden compartment on his chair and pressed the glowing green button within. Off went the screen, and in an instant the desk was swallowed into the floor. The compartment clicked shut, and Doctor Robotertechnik lunged out of his chair. 

"Tomorrow's the day, Heinz..." 

The burly man smiled.

"The combined latter anomaly interface type "Y" prototype will get its day in the sun. Finally, after all this meticulous testing and programming, after all these long and broken years," he stared at Heinz with an excited smile. 

"The Clarity Project will have begun!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> MWUWAHAHAHAH


	6. Overdosed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The C.L.A.R.I.T-y project has offically begun priming its first candidate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quickly, I'd like to apologize for such the long wait. I've constantly been sick or busy, and my free time mainly consisted of sleeping. I'm sorry again, and thank you from the bottom of my heart for reading! It keeps me going!

Jack gasped as he woke to the beeping of machines around him, their little chirps and pings varying in pitch. His eyes were blurry and moist. He was laying down on something smooth and soft, and he clenched the warm material at his hips. Eying the newest set of surroundings he was engulfed in, it all became clear as the fuzziness in his vision did. 

"What the fock..." 

Jack sat up in the hospital bed and was greeted with a severe pain in his arm. There was a bag of neon blue fluids being transferred into his inner elbow by way of IV drip, and the surrounding skin among the pierced vein had grown swollen and red. The thing itself was tangled in an amalgamate of cords and wires which were also connected to things attached to his body. A hospital gown enveloped his skinny frame. His eyes followed the tube until they saw the source. The fluid bag hung among several other bags of colorful liquid on a giant cylindrical stand with three tiers, each with their own hooks and fluids. The top one nearly touched the ceiling. In it were at least ten bags that Jack could see. Most of them were the dark shade of crimson attributed to blood, but a few others were a pleasant yellow color. Jack read the bold part of one of the labels aloud.

"Plasma. Use in emergencies on subject 257." He tried to decipher more, but he simply couldn't. He decided to shift his gaze back to the next compartment. 

The middle shelf was the one he had first seen. All the bags within it were holding neon colored mixtures. It was where his current bag was stationed and it hung around several different colors. There was a bright orange, a glowing green, a fluorescent pink, and a stunning red just to name a few. 

"Holy shit..." laughed Jack with a wry smile. "This dude caught a rainbow." He spoke in an accentuated Irish accent. "Where's me pot o' gold?" Jack would always try to make the best of bad situations, and this was no exception. He sighed and looked down at the last shelf.

The few bags on the bottom were all filled with something silver. the substance was so metallic looking that one could describe it as liquid mercury. It shone brightly as the ever-present fluoresce from the lights above struck it. 

As Jack was starring in wonder, the thing turned on with a flash. Two rectangular arms with claws sprouted from the sides of its shape and a robotic feminine voice rang out. 

"Capacity met. Switching from cryodine to neo-plasmite." The arms fiddled around and unhooked the neon blue fluid from the IV tube. They shot down and grabbed one of the silver bags and began to hook that up in place of the previous substance. "Gallium. Indium. Selenium." The machine jolted for a second. "Al- al- al- al-" Its arms spasmed wildly. How could Doctor Robotertechnik use such imprecise, broken machinery on a human being? Someone's life was at stake here. Not just someone, but Jack's. "Error 672. Error... Er-roooor. Shutting down for-for-for recalibration." The machines rectangular clawed appendages crashed to its sides, throwing the full medicinal bag to the floor and freeing its inside substance. It exploded with a small bang. Flecks of silver flew onto the white walls as well as the ceilings, and it had covered Jack in a spray of tiny aluminum colored polka-dots. It was at that moment that it started to burn his skin. He screamed in pain. 

"Ahh! Jaysus! Get this shit off a' me!!" He flung his arms around in an attempt to throw it off of his body, but the substance stuck like glue. It sizzled and produced smoke on the skin, eroding the epidermis underneath. The small dots became even smaller with time however, and soon the mysterious liquid had vanished from his skin. In the place of the silver flecks were now splotchy red bumps that burned and itched with a fury. Jack yelled in frustration and pain. "Fockin' hell, what the fock!"

Suddenly, a green light flashed from inside the cylindrical technology and the machine resumed its speech. "Alloy flush prepared. Administering." Its arms shot back up and it's claws gripped the air. They felt around, pinching the empty spot where the bag had begun to fall. As if nothing abnormal had happened, it grabbed another bag off of the bottom shelf and hooked it onto Jack's IV tube. This time, the metallic liquid did what it was supposed to and seeped into the opening; it traveled down the clear tube until it reached the bottom and went into the waiting vein. Jack could feel it go in. It made him feel heavy and lethargic while also giving him a strange metallic taste in his mouth. He spat furiously as if it would help his cause. He looked down at his irritated skin and watched what seemed like magic happen. His skin was clearing up, all the red spots shrunk until they each became nonexistent.

After about twenty seconds of the strange experience, the machine spoke again. "Flush successful. Preparing neo-plasmite." The arms unhooked the now empty bag from Jack and replaced it with the neon pink bag he had seen earlier. As the machine was just about to connect his IV with the bag, one of the arms shot out and aimed itself at the new neon substance. The claw fully opened up to reveal a small blue bulb in the center. The light turned on and the claw spun. The machine was scanning for something... but what? 

Finally, the bag was fully attached to the IV. "Fermentation completed. Now beginning transfusion." As the robotic voice ended those words, the pink substance shot into Jack's veins with a searing pain. 

"Ahh! Stop it, ya bitch!" He flinched furiously and thought of an idea. He sat up in pain and tried to swing his legs over the side of the bed. Maybe, just maybe, he could get up to pull the tube out of his arm and flee. That's when he pulled up the hospital blanket to find his feet. They were restrained by metal cuffs and their cold tightening grip. His temper grew. 

"Why?! Why are there always restraints?!? I just wanna fockin' leave!" With an enraged huff, he laid back down on the bed. He could feel his heart pulsing with every movement. He could feel it in his mouth, in his wrists, and in his chest. It was just as furious as he was. He looked over at the cylindrical machine. The fluids that had once been inside the bag were completely gone, and the plastic of it was sucked inwards towards its empty chamber. Jack looked at the machine now. "Please," he begged, "no more..."

The machine then pulled the half full pink bag off of the stand as if it had heard him. Yet as fast as it gave him hope, it had snatched it away.  
"Switching to duo-plasmite solution. Alloy flush redacted."

"Focking hell!"

He gritted his teeth and shut his eyes to prepare for the worst. The machine whirred and pulled another neon bag from the confines of its inventory. This one was different. 

It was miraculous. It started out yellow and melted into all other colors. It was like a combination of all of those bright neon fluids, and the words fluorescent and magical couldn't even begin to describe it. Finally, it was put on Jack's delivering device, and it was about to take a trip into his inner circulatory system. 

In contrast to his last experience, Jack's body felt lighter than helium. The feeling of every pulse stayed, however, and it intensified. His body shook with every beat of his heart. He looked down at his arm and was filled with utter terror. 

"Wha..." His heart pace picked up, and his breathing was shallow. His veins were shining and pulsating with multicolored light through his skin. Jack shot up in the hospital bed, pulling at his restrained feet. It was strange, really. He was afraid yet enticed by the behaviors of his own body. At this point, his veins flashed like they were lighting at a night club. Each flash was a new vibrant color. This was not happening. It couldn't.

Transfixed on his flashing body, Jack barely noticed that something else was happening. His head slowly sank into his chest and his eyelids drooped. He wanted to fight it so bad, but the sudden ordeal forced him to be obedient to the suggestive chemicals. He relaxed and closed his eyes to find that the small veins in his eyelids were flickering. He was just about to check out of consciousness.

The robotic voice spoke for the last time that Jack could remember. It eerily became even more human as it hummed that last phrase.

"Good luck... Jack."


	7. Alone in the Mind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mark is powerless to darkness.

What was this strange feeling? Mark's aching body pulsed with pain. He was as light as a feather but as heavy as a bowling ball. He couldn't open his eyes but his thoughts were whirring through his mind as oil did through gears. Every breath felt heavy on his lungs. He felt his fingers tingle. Powerless to use his muscles, he blindly took it all in.  
  
"Where am I? My head hurts. Why can't I move?  Why is it so hard to brethe? I feel... heavy. I cant hear anything. Why can't I open my eyes? I need help. Someone help me!" Mark tried to use his vocal cords and lips to produce the tiniest bit of sound, but to no avail. He was a prisoner in his own body, captive to a world he could never understand.  
  
It had been a week since Mark had entered this facility. As time passed, he continued to think about the abnormalities in his stay with the doctor and his meniachal mindset. As the only way of staying sane in this weird state, he started analyzing everything that had happened at this prison.  
  
It started with that escort, that threatening man who directed him to the room where he would meet the crazed doctor known as Robotertecnik. He was in the confidante of friends, guys he knew and loved. The doctor pulled out an invention, what seemed like his pride and joy. Everyone was scanned, written on paper as a number relating to pairing. Then they all got taken to a small room and waited for almost a whole day until the doctor and his burly man came back and dismissed everyone. Except for Mark and Jack, that was. They were taken hostage, subjected to health checkups, restraints, weird hospitalization. Mark remebered the fluids that were shot into him. He felt his arm tingle in the moment. Had Jack undergone the same fate?  
  
Something out of all of this stuck out like a sore thumb. Well, as much as something could stick out in an already strange world. That first room made no sense. Why would Doctor Robotertecnik unveil a table of inventions, all of which covered, and only use one? Why were there so many if he didn't intend to show them all? What was the thing with the metal feet?  
  
Mark never forgot that image, it filled his brain with curiosity and wonder. Those human-like feet made of wires, coils, and metal stood under that white sheet. The held something up under that white sheet. It left so much to be desired under that white sheet. That damn white sheet! He wanted to know whatever that thing was. He wanted to disect it against the power of his engeneering brain.  
  
Alas, nothing could be done in this situation except retreating into the mind. Out of nowhere, Mark heard a muffled noise. It was kind of like a splash, but sounded heavier. He felt his body sway to a rhymetic pulse, almost like... a piece of plant matter responding to a ripple?  
  
Mark made his conclusion there. He was submerged in something maliable and heavy with which there was no escape. He was also no longer alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm finally back.

**Author's Note:**

> This is a little something that I wanted to write for Halloween. It probably won't be done by then, but I hope you enjoy it nonetheless. Thanks for reading!


End file.
